Rubble Club Archives

Hello, Rubble Clubbers! This is your Chairman and world-famous pet rock whisperer, Madge Dumpling, welcoming you to my lovely little crunchy underground parlour here in the Stone Quarry of the Rocky Headlands of the magical land of Undergrowby. As I am sure you are painfully aware that I (and a party of my best-behaved pet rocks) have been far away in the Spring Green for weeks, job-swapping with the Undergrowby plantation manager, Hazel Twigstarter.  It was no picnic, I can tell you. I  was like a fish out of water. Whatever I did was wrong. Nobody liked my rock cakes.(They weren’t green enough, would you believe?) They told me off for sprinkling gravel on the furniture. Digging, sprouting and sweeping, eating green soup, digging, sprouting and sweeping, eating more green soup,  over and over again. When I stopped to do a bit of pet rock whispering they accused me of slacking. Now you know me, Rubblers, I am not a slacker, (or a digger or a sweeper) so  I have returned home. Enough is enough!

My husband Malcolm has grown terribly thin. He is a nervous wreck. Hazel has run rings round him, put him on a diet of green soup, forced him to be her housework slave, dressed him in green and parted his hair down the middle like a choirboy. It will take me a while to retrain him to my more homely ways. He was so intent on his sweeping that he had no time to weep with joy to see me return. Of course I told him to put his broom down and get this place gritted up again, just like the Stone Quarry Cottage should be. And get the kettle on for the Rubble Clubbers, never mind sending for a takeaway!   When I get baking my first batch of rock cakes, never fear, he will start to put some weight on again. Malcolm! Start mixing the dough! I’ll add my world-famous finishing touches shortly!

Those plants Hazel has put along the windowsill will have to go and the rubble replaced randomly just as I like it. My best-behaved pet rocks are back now and they have brought their own souvenir pet plants back with them from their holiday. One good thing came out of my stay in the Spring Green, Rubblers. While I was staying at Plantation Cottage, I was introduced to a very intelligent pet rock friendly plant species called Fairy Air Plants who like to latch on to pet rocks, ordinary rocks, hats, baskets and twigs (and anything that will sit still for long enough to be latched onto). The pet rocks thought it was hilarious to have feathery fluttery plants sitting on their heads but I had to discourage it for practical reasons. A fairy air plant, it seems, has no roots so it needs to be splashed with water every day or so in order to survive, and if it was permanently attached to a pet rock that means the pet rock would get a drenching too.  Running water and soggy dampness is all very well for plants but it is the destructive enemy of rock, as we all know. For that reason I insist that they must keep their pet fairy air plants on their hats or in their baskets, or glued onto the roof of their huts.

I see Grandad Gray is busy taking photos of all my pet rock accessories so he can put them on the web site for you all to see and buy. I knew Hazel would bully him along into being more efficient in the pet rock sales dept. It seems to have worked because there are hardly any pet rocks left on my shelves. If you want to order some you had better be quick, or you will have to wait for me to hatch out a new batch, and that won’t be for a few days because I have things to do first…. re-stocking the kitchen with rock cakes, rummaging around on the beach collecting new rock samples, catching up with the gossip from my friends the pigeons on the Promenade, throwing Hazel’s plants outside, scattering new dust and grit all over my house where it belongs, and of course, in between all this I have my pet rock whispering to do!

Linda from Kilmarnoch has a nice idea for pet rock fancy dress for the Halloween parties. White tissue paper ghost outfits with eyes drawn in with a pen!…How fabulous Linda! Well done for sharing with the membership! Thank you! That is another job to add to my list immediately.

Please chat amongst yourselves while I get on with all my endless business, Rubble Clubbers. It will be more like the dusty little home you know and love when you return next week, and less like a sterile greenhouse. Until then I remain your  returning Chairman and faithful friend, Madge Dumpling.

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Bing bang boom, clonk! The gong has sounded! In you come, Rubble Clubbers, quick, quick, quick! Get your pet rocks on the mantlepiece with the others where it’s warm and dry (and plant-free). (The mantlepiece is no place for plants when the fire is lit!) Everywhere else in the  house is covered with lovely greenery, as you can see, just as it is in my house in the Spring Green. My plants love their pet rocks to come visiting them in their plant pots. In fact it seems to give them a growth spurt! I have put a dry flat pebble in almost every pot for the pet rocks to sit on because unlike plants, pet rocks don’t like to have damp bottoms, according to Madge.( I don’t 100% believe her because those who don’t have a pebble don’t seem to care, or be any the worse for it…what do you think, Rubblers?)

Good news! One of the more obedient Rubble Club members must have taken my advice and made herself a scarecrow and shouted “Penny for the Guy!” in the middle of the street, because since last week, someone has grown rich enough to order one of my online pet rock families. Hurray for Davina! Thank you! There is a free gift coming along with your rocks for being the first Rubble Clubber to order one!

Linda from Kilmarnoch, your latest enqiry about online availability of pet rock beds, etc. made me determined to act quickly and decisively. (I am famous in Undergrowby for my speed {I have wings which I clip on when necessary} and my instant decision-making{I have antennae to sniff out the truth in all things}). Now that someone has ordered something, yes Linda, I think we should have everything to do with pet rocks for sale on the web site. It will be done before I leave!

Linda, this Zen garden of yours is a worry to me. Zen gardens are not known for their lush plantings, which makes them quite undesirable items in my opinion. Madge might like them but that’s because she loves sand and gravel and rocks and she can’t be bothered to water her plants. If I were you, Linda, rather than over-populate your Zen garden, I’d get myself a few more plants and give each plant at least one pet rock of its own to befriend it. Mosses and air plants look lovely growing in the pet rockery, on top of pet rock huts, beds, etc.. They will even grow on top of their favourite pet rocks if you let them. You will have to sprinkle water on the plant/pet rock combination once a day to keep the plant alive, and Madge would hate that, but let me reasure you, it does the pet rock no harm whatsoever. I do it every day. If you were unconvinced about this, you could always give your pet rock a little cling film raincoat. Where there’s a will, there’s a way! Plants are too magical for your pet rocks to be without them.

While I was clearing out Madge’s rubbish I found a box full of dusty old pet rock laptops. Weirdly, they are all open and tuned into the page bearing Madge Dumpling’s face.  I have lined them up along the mantlepiece to entertain the little rockies in Madge’s absence. Look, they are all staring at the screens, smiling vacantly as if hypnotised by Madge’s face! I will make sure Grandad Gray includes them for sale on the website, in case you think your pet rocks might like one.

I had a letter from Madge saying she is homesick and does not know how much longer she can bear to be away, so my stay may be cut short before we meet again. My work here is, luckily, nearly done anyway. Everything is sprouting nicely in the garden and on the windowsills. There is no dust,…no gravel on the floor or the couch, even the lucky cobwebs are dust-free because Malcolm Dumpling is now doing a better job of the housework. In the computer department,  Grandad Gray is becoming more obedient by the hour.

In the shop, I have trained Granny Gray, the shopkeeper, in the growing of pet rock-friendly plant species, and she has promised to tend and water everything properly in my absence. In case we never meet again, goodbye and here is my picture so you will recognise me if you see me in the street.  Right, that’s everything. I’m off now. Yours efficiently, Hazel Twigstarter, temporary Chairman.

Clong! Bang! Boom! Clunk! Boof! (that’s my gong going). Rubble Club Time everyone! In you come in your thousands with your pet rocks and your packed lunches. As you can see there are far fewer of Madge’s ophan pet rocks cluttering the place up now, but that’s not because anyone has ordered any from the online shop. Oh no. I had to go to the Undergrowby Market with them and give one away free with every nice bunch of fresh nettles on the Spring Green Plantation stall.

Rubble Clubbers, you are a disgrace for not ordering one of those pet rock families each, ( if, in fact, you even exist apart from the two dutiful officials, Linedancer and Linda…(thank you for your kind messages, ladies…if you ever get sick of the Rubble Club you can come and work for me in the Spring Green. I’ll let you pick all the nettles you can eat and treat you to a meal in the Soup Kitchen every night. I’ll also let you go to sleep in the winter. Unfortunately we don’t have a club though, or internet access. Just hard work, green fingers and a good gossip round the tables in the soup kitchen.

Ancient Reg (the chief cook in the Soup Kitchen) never serves the same soup twice, because every day something new sprouts up in the plantation and Reg has it chopped up and into his pan before anyone knows what it is. We always ask “What’s in the soup today Reg?”  “Some sort of veg,” says Reg, and he winks. He likes to keep us guessing but he never tells us if we have guessed right. To keep all his secret soup recipes safe,  he calls all his soups by the same name…Soup of the Day. He certainly knows his way round a pan of soup and dumplings better than someone we all know who is actually called  Mrs. Dumpling(although only by marriage, so we’ll let her off). If she is helping out at the Soup Kitchen (as all we plantation workers are expected to do in exchange for our dinner), Reg will need to keep her away from the stove or there will be gravel rattling around in the soup of the day for sure.

What shall we do today then? As you are obviously all too poor to order my pet rock selections, perhaps you should make yourselves  a stuffed scarecrow and go and stand outside your house and shout “Penny for the Guy”. People will throw money at you then (and then you can throw it at me). I know it works because there are some children standing outside the Magic Wand Factory Shop on Dickson Road, Blackpool doing just that and getting very rich. I am very good at making scarecrows, (much better than those children), and I am a good shrieking shouter,  but when I shout “Penny for the Guy”, nobody hears me. Nobody even looks my way. They give all their pennies to those pesky children. It is as if I were invisible.

Keep your eye on the Pet rock department of the Magic Wand Factory online shop if you are hungry for more pet rock accessories. I am getting more and more convinced that the human (and therefore invisible) Rubble Club members do not run into their thousands, hundreds or even tens. I bet I could count them on one hand if the truth were told. For that reason, unless I am proved wrong by a sudden influx of orders, I am not going to bother bullying Grandad Gray into putting more items up for sale here at the meeting.

Having got Madge’s husband Malcolm organised, there is very little to do here in between going to market with the rockies. The more I sit around in this house wondering whatever Madge Dumpling does with her time, the less I feel like doing myself. I am getting quite idle, and taking a liking for the fireside. I even find myself talking to the pet rocks and fancying I might be developing a bit of the Dumpling magic. Then I look down at my green fingers and long hard fingernails and wish I had some planting to do.

One night this week as I was taking the pet rocks on their basket ride around the Blackpool Illuminations, as instructed by Madge, I popped through one of the gnome flaps on the back door of a florist’s shop, attracted by the homely smell of greenery. The pet rocks were fascinated. They are not used to plants, after all. (Madge has not got lovely green fingers like me.) While I was there I took a few cuttings of some strange plants I had never seen before, from some pampered housebound species loved so much by humans that they never let them go out in the garden at all, but make them sit indoors on the windowsill like pet rocks. I have planted these indoor plant cuttings in pots and set them in between the pet rocks on Madge’s windowsill. They are thriving, and I am now in the process of training Malcolm how to water them.Soon, they will be taking over the house.

Right! Time to go! Off you pop! See you next week, invisible Rubble Clubbers. If you want more pet rocks before Christmas, for heaven’s sake do not delay. Contact me, your efficient, (but temporary) chairman and sales manager, Hazel Twigstarter.

Where’s my gong? Rubble Club!! Rubble Club!!! Where are you, Rubble Clubbers!! We need to get this meeting off the ground and organised quick sharp because my name is not Madge Dumpling and I am a stickler for punctuality. When I say go, we go!! Right?! In you come and sit up straight.

Madge has been on holiday in the Plantation Cottage (my house) in the Spring Green for two and a half days now and it has taken me that long to clean this place up. Everything is now, as you see, sparklingly clean, neat and tidy and the pet rocks are planted in rows for easy management. Even Malcolm, Madge’s husband, has had a makeover, as you can see. I have parted his hair down the middle and dressed him in  nice clean green smock to match my own. We all know he means well and tries hard, but it’s no good, his houseworking methods are foolishly inefficient. I could see at a glance I would have to retrain him in the art of strict tidiness.  I don’t do cooking, so there is nothing for you to eat, but if you like I can send for a takeaway to the Soup Kitchen. Malcolm will go and fetch it. We’ll have a wheelbarrow full of Green Soup and dumplings, Malcolm.  Tell them it’s for Hazel Twigstarter, Plantation manager and you will not be charged.

Right! Next! We have far too many pet rocks cluttering the place up, and we need to sell some of them immediately. This is not an old folks’ home! Madge will be shocked when she comes home and finds the place is spotless and I have sold all the pet rocks. To this end, I have organised batches of rocks into groups of two big ones, male and female, and two small ones, male and female, and lined them up in the window with a big bold price tag on them.

If nobody buys them, I am putting them in the wheelbarrow and off to market they go.   If you want me to wrap a set up for you, Rubble Clubbers, it will be my pleasure. £10 for the set, including postage and packing, as near to this picture as I can match them up, although no two are ever the same, as you know. How many would you like? Click on the picture above if you want to buy one online from the Magic Wand Factory Shop, or ring 01253 353800 with your exact instructions. ( I have had a stern, shrill, ear-shattering word with Grandad Gray, the computer shopkeeper, and as a result, you will be able to buy them , from the Magic Wand Factory website from now on.)

If enough of you order them, I will change the selection next week and the week after.  Madge should have got this show on the road long ago!  If we can get rid of everything sharpish, Madge will have to come home early and hatch out some more rocks. (That will keep her busy through the winter while all the rest of us are asleep. ) Write to me at Madge’s address and tell me what you want me to put up for sale next,… orphans, hats, books, swings, slides, beds, huts, toilets, food, etc.. If you ring the Magic Wand Factory Shop at the number above and give them your name, address and credit card numbers,  I will despatch them as quick as lightning.  If I ran my plantation like Madge runs the Stone Quarry, we would all starve for the lack of green soup ingredients.

I have forwarded the mail to Madge. These are the replies;

Yes she will be at the reunion, Linda.

She is greatly relieved you are still alive, Linedancer.

I am now opening the  mail in my own right, so unless it is too technically pet rock-ish for me to answer, please address it to me, Hazel. Thank you, members, I look forward to hearing from you. Actually, I have to admit that, apart from two obviously living members, I am beginning to wonder if this laptop Rubble Club is just a figment of Madge’s imagination. She told me there are hundreds of invisible members rushing through cyber-space every week to get to her rock cakes and gravel tea and to listen to her words of wisdom, but hmmm, I am not convinced. The Rubble Clubbing Growbies (the gnomes from the magical world of Undergrowby) are all here, huffing and puffing because there is no buffet, but as for anyone else??????We shall see. I intend to publish my findings in the Undergrowby Gnews. I feel it is my duty to unearth the truth with my long fingernails, just as I would unearth a geranium if I found one spoiling my nettle bed.

For now, farewell, Rubblers. The Rubble Club will be open again next week. Listen for the gong.

Your temporary resident host,

Hazel Twigstarter.